


This isn't Our Time

by doritokeith



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, I mean its not technically character death, Sadness, Season 2 Theory, but its pretty darn close
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 17:56:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9396569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doritokeith/pseuds/doritokeith
Summary: Keith looks back at his own lion, lying on its side, not even bothering to put up its shields anymore. Its once vibrant red metal is now coated in a layer of dust and marked with chars of grey. The lion is surrounded by tall rock walls that serve as cover, but it’s susceptible should anyone – especially the Galra – find it. Keith doesn’t want to leave her. But he has to.“I’m sorry.” He mutters again, and turns towards the Black Lion. “I’ll come back.”In which Keith loses Shiro and Lance happens to be on the same Galra Base.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo this was sort of just a reunion theory that I figured I might as well finish before season 2 comes out (in like 2 hours). I'm sorry if the pacing is weird or the scenes feel jumpy, I just really wanted to finish it. Also, it turned out way darker than I meant for it to be oops. Enjoy this Keith fic with Klance and Shiro thrown in!

Keith awakens to a flashing red light in the dark of his lion’s cockpit. He feels his heart already coming to a panic. He tries to calm himself in any way possible. Counting to ten isn’t going to work right now, but maybe another technique will. He looks around and assesses his situation. He’s in the lion. He’s still in his lion. Which means he’s probably safe for now. The screens are down, allowing a clear view of black, rocky soil. It’s dark outside the lion. How long has he been unconscious for? The last thing Keith remembers is the wormhole and the terrified screams of the other paladins.

_The other paladins_. _Where are they?_ Keith has no idea if he’ll ever see them again. It’s highly unlikely that they would end up in the same place since they left the wormhole at different intervals. Still . . . maybe, just maybe.

Keith groans and punches his pilot chair, shaking that thought from his head. He can’t get his hopes up. The last thing he needs is false hope right now.

There’s only one thing he can do at the moment: figure out where the hell he is and how he’s going to get out of here.

Red is clearly damaged beyond use. She appears to have crashed sideways and in his battle against Zarkon Keith remembers being knocked motionless. _God_ , he was so stupid. He should have listened to Coran. He glances around the cockpit and holds a hand to the metal wall.

“I’m sorry.” Keith says and closes his eyes, waits for Red to send him something. _Hopes_.

No response.

He bites his lip to hold back whatever emotion pulls at his chest.

It takes a few minutes, but Keith manages to remove himself from the cockpit. He brings along his bayard and nothing else. He doesn’t have anything else.

As he walks the halls of the lion, which flash red and hum distantly at a low frequency, he starts making a list of what he has to do. It’s shitty and pointless, but it keeps his mind occupied.

  1. Find out where he and Red landed
  2. Determine what is wrong with Red and how to fix her
  3. Find the others



It’s a short list that’ll need some expanding down the road, but it’s a start.

Keith comes up on the exit in Red’s mouth. It’s closed. Of course it is. Keith really misses Pidge and Hunk right now. If they were here they could easily rewire the door’s hatch or find a way to get the lion running again. Hell, even Lance seemed to know what he was talking about when it came to the mechanics of the lions. But Keith never took interest in or fully understood all the minute technical parts of spaceships. He only knew how to fly them.

Keith’s first instinct is to run full-speed at the exit. It does nothing but spike a pain in his shoulder. His yelling and the loud metallic crash of door-on-armor echoes through the lion like a taunt. He’s trapped in here. There’s no escaping until Red is functional again. And Keith can’t fix her.

He falls to his knees, the armor clacking against the floor. There’s nothing left for him to do. Keith leans forward against the sealed exit, rests his forehead to the cold metal. He wonders how big the lion is and if it’s possible to run out of oxygen in it. How long before someone finds him? How long before the Galra find him?

Keith feels himself suffocating, but knows it’s from the stress of the situation. His throat is dry and his heart is pounding. He hopes the other paladins are okay. What he wouldn’t give to be in the same solar system as them right now.

There’s a low rumbling sound. Keith thinks it’s probably his stomach. _How long have I been here?_

The ground starts shaking and a spark of communication with Red hits him. He looks up at the exit as the ground below him vibrates and _hopes_. _Prays_.

Sure enough, the large metallic barrier rises and Red’s jaws open to reveal the pale grey, rocky texture of the world he crash-landed on. Dust puffs out in clouds with the movement of the lion, veiling the view. Keith stumbles to his feet to peer outside at the rock-like ridges of the planet.

Red falls silent again with a strained effort as Keith loses whatever wave they were synced on. He rests his hand against the side of the exit and mutters a soft, “Thank you. I’ll come back, I promise.”

No response.

As soon as Keith is far enough away, Red’s force field tries to surround her. It sparks on and off in different areas but never fully forms.

Part of Keith wants to go back and stay with his lion, protect it if anything comes remotely close to it. The other part of him knows he has to observe the area. He’ll be back. He promised.

 

Keith climbs the rock formations that surround the impact crater of his lion. He has no rope and no safety net like they had when rock climbing at Garrison. There is a very real possibility of slipping or losing footing and plummeting back down against hard rock. Granted, the paladin armor would protect most of him from this height, but it wouldn’t prevent a concussion or serious bruising.

The Garrison did not hire the kindest staff. The mindset there was always more military than collegiate – Keith knew that when he signed up. But looking back on it now, he realizes how unprepared even the best trained on Earth would be for space – all of space, evil alien empires included.

Keith recalls how he was first in his class, a renowned prodigy and soon-to-be best pilot to ever come through Garrison. _Some prodigy_ , he hears somewhere off in his head. _You crashed and broke an ancient technology that has been active for tens of thousands if not millions of years_.

He blinks hard and glances up at the expanse of grey sky. _Almost there_.

Keith finds his mind drifting to the other paladins again as he nears the top of the rocks. He would never admit it, but Keith was envious of their teamwork and the bond that they so clearly shared – specifically between Hunk, Pidge, and Lance. Even when Lance was being his usually obnoxious self, they still managed to work well together – something Keith could never understand. It wasn’t even that Keith and Lance didn’t get along. Sure, they had their screaming matches and threats on the training deck, but Keith had dealt with all of that before. When he would get paired with people for simulations in the Garrison, some kids were too cocky – much worse than Lance – and some were purely annoyed that Keith wouldn’t hang out with them as often as other teams did. And Keith dealt with those people and moved on. But Lance . . . Lance, he couldn’t shake. He couldn’t move on. Part of it was because they were trapped in space fighting aliens in a robot that required the cooperation of all five paladins. But, the other part was something Keith didn’t quite understand yet. All he knew was that if he never sees Lance again, the last thing they would have done was fight. The last thing Keith did with all of the paladins was argue. About leaving them behind, nonetheless. He could still hear the hurt in Hunk’s voice. If Keith ever saw them again, he would make sure they knew how much he missed them. Maybe not verbally, but he would find a way to prove it.

As Keith comes to the top of the crater he’s greeted by the shine of an unfamiliar sun. This one’s a pale yellow in light and exposes the cracks in the grey rocks while casting shadows under the odd, floating chunks. The planet is mostly barren, resembling a rocky canyon with twists and juts of rock creating darkened crevices that the light of the new sun can’t reach.

Keith scans the horizon, almost loses his footing at one point, and catches a glint of something reflecting sunlight. The breath leaves his lungs in a sudden sigh at what is possibly the best sight to ever grace his vision. The Black Lion. It lays at rest and lacks the force field that should be protecting it in its vulnerable state. It’s not too far off, maybe a few minutes’ hike. There are two ways of reaching it: by jumping across the tops of the disconnected rocks or by tracking his way through the shadowy nooks and curves at ground level. It might be faster to use the packs on his paladin armor and fly from floating rock to floating rock. But, the shadowy paths would conceal him better should there be anyone else on the planet.

A soft, crackling whir of electricity hums from the crater. Keith looks back at his own lion, lying on its side, not even bothering to put up its shields anymore. Its once vibrant red metal is now coated in a layer of dust and marked with chars of grey. The lion is surrounded by tall rock walls that serve as cover, but it’s susceptible should anyone – especially the Galra – find it. Keith doesn’t want to leave her. But he has to.

“I’m sorry.” He mutters again, and turns towards the Black Lion. “I’ll come back.”

  

Keith isn’t entirely sure how long he’s been walking for. At first, he had moved with deft caution, hopping from jutting rock to jutting rock. However, he starts to feel time drag on and slowly begins throwing caution to the wind. He has to get to the Black Lion before someone else does. It had been at rest without a shield and without cover. Keith briefly wonders if Shiro is out looking for him and if he should have stayed with his lion. That’s what kids were always taught, right? If you don’t know where you are, stay in one place until someone finds you. Keith’s too impatient. He needs to find Shiro. Has to.

Something starts blinking – clicking – and it takes Keith a second to realize it’s his helmet. A feed cuts in and out of audible frequency. He hears a voice. It’s familiar. It’s . . .

“Shiro?” Keith questions, freezing in place, staring ahead at the Black Lion and the crater surrounding it. _It has to be_. “Shiro is that you?”

Feedback buzzes and rings in Keith’s ears. _Please, please, please_. What sounds vaguely like a voice, or breathing, comes crackling through the receiver. His heart starts pounding. “Keith?”

Keith feels himself smiling. Shiro’s _alive_. “Shiro!” He calls. “Where are you? I’m coming to your lion.”

“Keith.” He hears again, as if Shiro is remembering what it’s like to say his name.

Keith doesn’t think much of it. The only thing going through his head is, _I’m not alone_. He finds himself running, sprinting towards the lion across the grey rocks. “Shiro, are you okay?”

“I’m,” Shiro starts. There’s silence for a long second. Then, “Keith, wait.”

He doesn’t stop running. “Shiro? What’s going on? Are you hurt?”

“N-no, but,” he trails off again, the connection buzzing with more feedback.

“Hey, stay with me. I’m coming, Shiro.”

Keith reaches the impact crater without another word from Shiro, save his heavy breathing. His heart starts jumping in his chest. Panic begins to settle in. “Shiro, I need you to tell me where you are.” Keith says, beginning to descend the rock wall. He scans the crater and around the lion. There’s no sign of Shiro anywhere.

“Keith, don’t come to the lion.” Shiro says, sounding suddenly alert.

“I’m already here.” Everything about the situation reads as bad. Keith finds a jut of rock to hide behind and stares at the ground to focus on Shiro’s voice. The feed hardly wavers. He must be close.

When Shiro speaks again it’s in a sharp command. “Go back to your lion.”

Keith sets his jaw and has to take a heavy breath before continuing. “No. I’m not leaving until I know you’re okay.” There’s silence on Shiro’s side. Even his breathing has grown quiet. “Shiro?” Keith whispers, his heart pounding in his ears. “Are you there?”

Suddenly, there’s a crack and a yell that’s distinctly Shiro coming from both the feed and the lion. A laser fires. The dull rocks light up in a flash of purple. “Shiro!” Keith yells, voice cracking as he launches from around the corner. He reaches for his bayard and feels it shift to its sword form.

“Keith?” Shiro calls in confusion, voice dry and sore.

As Keith rounds the corner of the lion he finds Shiro surrounded by a group of Galra. One Galra soldier holds Shiro’s hands behind his back painfully. Keith feels himself tearing up. “It’s good to have you back, Champion.” The soldier practically growls.

“Shiro!” Keith yells, earning the attention of the group before him. Without thinking, he launches himself forward and lashes out at the Galra with untimed and tactless thrusts of his bayard. He manages to avoid being shot and even knocks down a Galra or two – Keith honestly can’t remember since his vision went blurry with anger – before eventually he’s thrown off balance and hits his back so hard on the rocky ground that he loses his breath and writhes for air.

A Galra stands over him, a foot to his chest. “I see the boy is very affectionate towards his fellow paladins.” The Galra’s voice booms. Keith turns his head to face it. In a moment of instinct and anger, he spits at the purple alien over him, only for the combination of blood and saliva to spray back over his own face as well. There’s a snarl, but the Galra seems unbothered. “He’s got the same weakness as you, Champion.”

“Leave him alone.” Shiro says with barely any air in his lungs. “Please, let him go. Take me. I’ll do whatever you want.”

Keith’s eyes dart open. He snaps his focus to Shiro, tries to find enough air to formulate words. “Shiro,” he croaks out, “no.”

“Shut up, boy.” The Galra booms. His foot presses down and Keith finds himself screaming in discomfort despite biting his lip to hold back the pain.

“Stop!” Shiro begs.

The foot is removed from his chest and Keith gasps for air, curling in on himself in tortured discomfort.

“Let’s go.” There’s a shuffling of feet that Keith can only hear. His eyes are shut tightly as he clenches his jaw and fists. This newfound merciless burning stabs at his chest, making it hurt to move or breathe even the slightest. A brief moment of hesitation lingers about them where Keith isn’t sure what’s happening. Then the voice says, low and smirking. “Bring the boy.”

Long, purple fingers are roughly dragging him off the ground and forcing him to his unstable feet. He’s handcuffed, shoved, and scolded as they walk him to the ship. One of the Galra takes his bayard. Keith is terrified to find he can’t fight back. The one thing he was always good at besides piloting and he can’t find a way to do it. He’s failed.

 

The next time Keith wakes up he’s on an unfamiliar ship. A Galran ship. It’s decorated in purple rim and black walls. The room he’s in is empty – probably a holding cell of some sort. Keith goes to stand to examine the room further but is greeted by a sharp jab in his ribs and a coughing fit that brings up blood. He crumbles back to the floor.

Keith can only see one way out of this situation and it’s not the prettiest. He’ll have to jump the Galra when they come for him. If they come for him. With very little thought, he decides he’s going to do it. He has to. When the Galra open his cell he’s going to take them out and find Shiro. Now, it’s just a waiting game.

As he attempts to sit up and ignore the stabbing of his ribcage, Keith recalls the problem solving that the other paladins often did when stuck in tricky situations. It seemed that everyone always had a plan – a good, logical one too. Of course, “everyone” excluded Keith. Keith’s plans were never lengthy and mostly consisted of fighting one-on-one. He was never good at strategies or plans, choosing instead to rely on instincts, not that his are any good. Look where they got him.

In attempt to be more like the other paladins, Keith’s brain starts running through different scenarios and ways he could attack. He doesn’t have his bayard, but he never relied on it back at the Garrison so he shouldn’t need to rely on it now. When they open his cell he’ll jump them. He’s so broken and quiet that the Galra won’t see it coming.

Keith sighs through the discomfort of his injuries. He remembers the hope he had felt when he saw the Black Lion, and the happiness that overwhelmed him when he heard Shiro speak. It was all taken away so fast. And now he was under Galra captivity. If only the other paladins had been there. They could have thought things through and saved Shiro. Keith couldn’t save him. Maybe he wasn’t meant to be a paladin.

 

With a jolt of the ship, Keith finds himself awakening from a sleep he didn’t realize he had fallen into. The ship appears to have landed, for they’ve stopped moving. _This is it_ , Keith tells himself. He sits with his back against the wall and listens outside the door for footsteps.

They don’t come.

Keith closes his eyes, listens harder.

Nothing.

Slowly, cautiously, he stands. He’s used to the pain in his chest by now. There’s only a dull reminder of it in the back of his thoughts. If he thinks too hard it’ll rise up again, so he focuses on the locked door and the lack of footsteps – the lack of _Galra_.

Keith presses his ear to the cold metal door. There’s soft shifting on the other side of it, like someone’s pacing. The feed in his helmet crackles on for a brief moment but quickly shuts back off. Could it be . . . Shiro?

As Keith tries to lean in further, the door suddenly gives, opening with a gust of movement. Keith barely catches himself and has to readjust quickly to have a better stance. When he finds his balance and looks up before him, desperately hopeful that this is the Black Paladin, his body starts kicking with adrenaline.

It’s not Shiro. It’s not any of the paladins. Before him stands a Galra soldier, thin but armored. Its face is covered with a tinted helmet and in its long purple fingers, outstretched towards Keith in a passive manner, is his bayard.

Keith stares at the Galra for all of two seconds before ripping the bayard from its weak grasp and launching at the soldier as the bayard shifts in his hand. He brings the newly formed sword up to the Galra’s face as a threat, though the body beneath his hold shows no sign of tension.

The Galra speaks, its voice deep but soft. “I’m with a resistance group. I came to rescue you.” Keith glares down the soldier, but it seems unaffected. Allura never mentioned any inner rebellion. “I know you won’t trust me, just listen. If you exit this ship you’ll be at the bay entrance. I can’t assist you further, but there are unattended cargo ships alongside this one. Steal one and get out of here.”

Keith couldn’t focus on what the Galra was saying. He brought the blade of his sword to the purple neck of the soldier. “Where is Shiro?”

“I-I don’t,” the voice stutters, unsure for the first time.

“The Black Paladin.” Keith rewords, pressing into the Galra’s chest with his elbow. “Where is he?”

“You need to leave. Now.” The soldier says.

Keith takes a step closer, narrows his eyes, and throws the most intimidating glare he can manage with his heart pounding in his throat. “I’m not leaving without Shiro. And you’re gonna tell me where he is.”

“The Champion? He’s being held prisoner.”

“ _Where?_ ” Keith presses forward.

“I honestly don’t know.” And Keith hates to believe him, but he sounds sincere. “I was told to help you.”

“I don’t need your help.” Keith spits back.

He shoves at the soldier with whatever strength he can muster before bolting down the ship, passing bodies of other Galrans seemingly untouched but lying on the ground motionless, and runs out the nearest exit.

 

Keith doesn’t look back and he can barely see in front of him. The hallways are dark and twisting and oddly empty. They all seem to jumble in his mind like a maze. A left always leads to another left and then another and another and somehow he gets lost just running in circles around whatever Galra base he’s on, barely avoiding the few patrolling soldiers that he comes across.

There’s no telling how long he roams the halls for. Keith feels like he’s back to step one, when he had no one – only the slightest glint of hope in the form of the Black Lion. Only, now the lions are most likely under Galra control. Keith had promised Red that he would be back for her. He promised that he was coming back. He left her alone and vulnerable. This is all his fault.

A low frequency buzzes in Keith’s helmet. He snaps his focus to the faint static. A step backward. The feed cuts out. A step forward. The static gets a little louder. Keith plays hot and cold with the buzz of the communicator until he’s standing in a large, empty hallway. The feed isn’t perfect, but it’s mostly stable in this spot.

Keith can pick out breathing. _Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Cough. Inhale._

“Shiro?” Keith says, slowly turning, trying to find anything that could lead him to Shiro. “Can you hear me? It’s Keith.”

There’s a faint breath. Then, “Keith?”

“Shiro?” Keith calls through the dark. The blinding light at the end of the empty hall prevents his eyes from adjusting. _Where is he?_ “Are you okay?”

“Keith!” Shiro suddenly shouts back, scratchy and choppy in Keith’s helmet. His voice breaks through the silence of the hall. “Keith, listen to me.” Keith shakes his head in attempt to get his eyes to refocus. “If I don’t make it out of here,” Shiro’s saying, and he sounds tired. _Exhausted_. Keith doesn’t want to hear the rest. “I want you to lead Voltron.”

“Shiro, where are you?” Keith demands, ignoring his request.

“Did you hear me?” He sounds out of breath. “Please, Keith, promise me.”

Keith bounces on his heels frantically, afraid a Galra will pop up from any side. He can’t see. He can’t _breathe_. “I promise I will find you.”

“ _Keith_.” Shiro says in his warning tone. “Please.”

Keith sets his jaw and stubbornly repeats, “I promise I will find you.”

Shiro sighs. There’s a bit of a pause. Keith can’t remember which way he came in to the room. Or which way was out. The panic rises in his throat like bile. Then, in a tired effort, Shiro says, “No matter what you see, Keith, don’t give in. Let them-”

A loud metal sound rings through the feed and a curse falls out under Shiro’s breath. The line to Shiro cuts in and out as a Galra voice speaks distantly.

Then, nothing.

The feed deadlines.

Keith loses his breath and nearly falls forward. He struggles to stay upright, his bayard suddenly a dead weight in his hands.

 

Keith runs through the halls like a maniac. He encounters probably three Galra – though his focus is jumbled and he can’t remember which way he even came from to begin with – and manage to take them out with pure adrenaline on his side. When he accidentally ends up back in that large hallway it’s frustrating, to say the least. Traumatic. Exhausting. Every time Keith manages to run in a loop he finds his heart leaps to his throat again.

By the third time he ends up in the same hallway, he’s given up trying to remember which halls led to where. His brain can’t follow the paths he’s been walking with everything else going on in his head. There’s no way out and there’s no way of finding Shiro.

_Shiro’s gone_. Keith recalls. _I had him and I lost him. And now he’s gone_.

A laser fires. This one’s close. Keith’s heart kicks into a frenzy as he swings his bayard up. His brain processes everything in a mad rush of adrenaline and panic. There’s a Galra soldier on the floor. He’s shot through the armor. Someone shot him. Find the shooter. _Now_. Keith follows the echo of the shot to the source of it, bayard raised. There he stands, gun still held in firing position, brows furrowed in concentration, and armor marked with a blue V on his chest. Lance.

Keith feels his heart’s pace quicken. God, it’s Lance. How? How the hell is he here? It’s not possible. It can’t be.

“Lance?” Keith says, shoulders and bayard dropping as his voice goes hoarse.

“Keith!” the blue armor clad boy calls, lowering his gun to his side. He runs across the open hall as the door behind him shuts with a high screech. “What the hell are you doing?” Keith can’t find words. All of the emotions that his adrenaline was drowning out are clawing at his skin, threatening to break him. “You need to stop being so impulsive!” Instead of speaking, Keith just stares. He watches Lance’s blue eyes as he speaks and makes note of the tired lines under them. “I know you’ve probably been alone for a while and god knows what that does to your head, but you have to think things through! You could have died! What if I hadn’t walked in, huh? What if?”

And Keith remembers. “Lance, they took Shiro again.” He whispers between them, no longer able to make eye contact. Lance pauses his nervous rambling. “It’s my fault.”

“Keith, no.”

“I let them take him. I couldn’t stop them. I’m-”

“Not alone.” Lance says without missing a beat. He grabs Keith by the shoulders and waits for him to meet his eyes before continuing. “We’ll get Shiro back. Together. But first, you need to breathe.”

Breathe. Keith can hear the word echo in his head. He hears it in his voice, then Lance’s, then Shiro’s.

_Breathe, just breathe. You’re safe. You’re with Lance. Everything is going to be okay if you just breathe._

“Keith, can you do that?” Lance watches him carefully, not letting go of his shoulders.

Keith takes a shaky inhale. It _hurts_. The scrapes and bruises from his battles are rising to his attention now that the adrenaline is subsiding. He can feel them. He can feel each individual rib that’s out of place. And they _hurt_.

The exhale is worse. As he releases the breath from his body, Keith feels all of whatever was holding him together just melt away. He collapses to his knees and buries his face in his hands. Maybe Lance calls for him and maybe he should be concerned about their current situation, but everything that had been smothered for the sake of saving Shiro is at the forefront of his consciousness.

There’s a moment filled with nothing but white noise. Only a small voice breaks through in wavering audibility.

Keith hears it clearer now: his own name spoken by Lance in a panic.

“I’m sorry, Lance.”

“Keith, listen to me. I promise everything’s going to be okay. You just gotta get up. We have to get out of here.” Keith knows. But as he moves to stand he’s shoved back down. This time by Lance. “Keith!” Lance shrieks, moving around him and bringing up his bayard gun to firing position. Keith scrambles on his knees to grab his fallen bayard before jumping to his feet. There’s a blast and a flash of light.

Horrified, Keith watches Lance fall to the ground, his left side burned by the firing of the laser. Keith turns to the Galra who shot at them, only to find him down.

“Is anybody there?” Keith calls frantically into the communications feed, hoping and pleading that Lance hadn’t come alone. “We need back up.”

No one responds.

 

Keith drags them down a hallway and into the corner of a vacant room. He jams the door shut with whatever energy he has left before returning to check on Lance, who briefly scrunches his face in pain, clutching at his side.

Keith reaches out to Lance’s forehead where he can feel a bruise forming. “Lance,” Keith chokes out, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just some minor damage. Minor pain. Minor injuries. I’m fine. I’m okay.” Lance bites his lip to keep from rambling too much. He removes Keith’s hand from his face and ignores the way Keith won’t take his eyes off the blood he knows is trickling down his face and side. “How are you? How’s your arm?”

“My arm? It’s okay.” Keith mumbles out. He belatedly realizes that he had been holding it awkwardly over his chest. He wasn’t about to tell Lance that his ribcage felt like it was broken in thirty places. There’s a silence that lingers between them. Keith desperately breaks it with a croak. “I failed, Lance.”

“What?” Lance questions. He tears his eyes away from Keith’s arm to look him in the face.

“I couldn’t save Shiro. I couldn’t save myself. I put you in danger.” He states, coughing with small, painful grunts. His ribs _ache_ and he holds his arms about his chest awkwardly.

“Keith.” Lance says in a croak. “You did great. You tried.”

“I hurt you.” His voice cracks.

Lance catches his eyes and says sternly. “The Galra hurt me.”

“I let them hurt you.”

“No, Keith.” Lance says as he chokes on the words. “You have nothing to do with my injuries. I wasn’t watching our backs and the Galra shot me.” He goes to take a step towards Keith but finds he doesn’t have the energy as a bolt of pain lights up his whole left side. Lance stumbles forward and Keith catches him, allows Lance to lean on his shoulder despite the spikes of discomfort that stab at his chest.

“You can barely stand!” Keith says, trying to support Lance as best he can with broken ribs.

Keith drags them to the corner of the room where the wall juts out enough for him to lean against it as they sit on the floor. He chucks his armor over his head with a muffled wail of pain caught in his throat. In a last spark of effort, Keith pulls Lance into his lap and rips a chunk of his under armor off to apply it to Lance’s wound, pressing down as hard as he can with one hand. “Keith,” Lance rasps, and he’s not even trying to hide the pain anymore. He chokes as he cries out and his hand squeezes Keith’s arm. “It hurts.” Keith wraps an awkward arm around Lance, holds him as close as he can.

“They’re coming for us. They’ll be here soon. I promise, Lance.”

“ _Keith_.”

“I promise.”

Keith can’t remember the last time he had to treat a wound – or an imaginary one. Even back in the Garrison they never dealt with anything this severe. Sure, there was protocol on how to treat a bullet wound and they were all taught how to clean and dress deep cuts, but that didn’t account for whatever laser the Galra used, or any lasers at all. Space wasn’t supposed to have an alien empire trying to kill you.

Keith realizes Lance hadn’t been saying anything and his pained whines ceased. It’s silent for a long moment where all Keith can hear is his heartbeat in his ears and a high-pitched humming from something electrical in the room. Lance doesn’t move. Keith chokes out, “Lance? Please, keep talking. Stay with me. _Please_.”

Lance’s leg comes up a bit and then slides back down to rest. “I won’t leave you, Keith.” He struggles through the words, grips Keith’s shirt so tight it makes his knuckles go white. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He starts a coughing fit. Keith watches in horror as the same boy who always had enough air in his lungs to argue and ramble for hours on end now struggles for a single breath, terrified that any of the inhales are his last.

“Don’t apologize. You did great. You – you saved me. Twice. You’re gonna make it out of this. I promise. I’ll get you out of here. I promise.” He clutches Lance to his chest and cries into his hair.

Lance’s hand finds Keith’s and grips it weakly. “You know,” he starts, and a small breath of laughter escapes him, “I had a lot of time to think while we were separated.” Keith can’t bring himself to speak, but he squeezes Lance’s hand to let him know he’s listening. “I really missed you, Keith. Like, a lot.” Another coughing fit interrupts him and Keith holds him for dear life, feels the tears drag down his cheeks as he cries silently between them. It’s a long moment before Lance can breathe normally, if so. He starts talking again, soft and cautiously. “If I don’t make it out of this,”

“ _No_.” Keith starts shaking his head, those very words all too familiar. “You will, Lance.”

“But if I don’t–”

“Lance, stop.”

“You should know,”

“ _Please_.”

“I love you.”

Keith presses his forehead to Lance’s hair and sobs – sobs through the jolting pain in his chest and the panic that’s rising up again. He whispers to Lance, “I will get you out of here. You’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

“I love you, Keith.”

“I will get you out of here.”

“I love you.”

“I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> i am so sorry


End file.
